


Wicked

by aquietpersonwithaloudmind



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8215295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquietpersonwithaloudmind/pseuds/aquietpersonwithaloudmind
Summary: Azriel's had a hard day at work, but Mor looks too gorgeous for him to relax just yet.





	

When Azriel returned from a long day spent within the shadows, Mor was already in the shower, getting ready for bed. His shadows rushed under the door and brought back the sounds of her singing nonsense tones that sounded beautiful despite their meaninglessness. He was sweating from his fly over, and had the thought to join his lover in the shower only half-formed by the time he was through both their bedroom and bathroom doors. He was standing in the doorway as the water shut off and Mor stepped out, beginning to towel herself dry. He tried to calm his suddenly racing heart as the towel slid to reveal the smooth swell of a breast, the rise of her hip. When his mouth opened and he gave an involuntary gasp, Mor looked up. The smile on her face said that she had known he was there since he stood outside their bedroom door. 

The ice in his blood began melting. 

"Hello, love," she said, that same smile still on her face. "Fun day at work?"

He didn't want to talk about work. He didn't want to talk much at all. He prowled closer to say, "do you know what you look like right now?" 

She draped a towel over her head, cinching it tight so it covered everything but her face. "Like a matron?" she said with an innocent smile. 

He growled and crossed over to her in a single bound, pulling the towel off of her. "No," he said, his voice rough, "like a goddess."

And when she kissed him a split second later, pulling his lower lip between her teeth, the ice melted into flame. 

Her hands were scrambling on his leathers, trying to pull them off off off even while his lips and teeth and tongue were on her neck, drawing a breathless moan from her and she was too distracted to undress him herself so he helped and when his top was off she ran her hands over his arms and chest and abdomen, pushing against him back back back until he was on the bed and she was on top of him. 

She was still sopping wet from the bath. 

His hands were still in her hair. 

Mor was used to this dance, guiding him through every intimate touch. Not that he didn't know what to do, it’s just that he never knew what to do with  _ her,  _ this bright light in his arms he had never thought would be  _ his.  _ But tonight, the fire in his veins burned too fiercely to submit to her. 

He flipped them over, his wings spreading out over them like a promise, a claim, that she was his and he was hers. He slid a hand between their bodies, sliding a thumb over her nipple, holding her breast, then moving down down down to between her legs. She was wet, and it had nothing to do with the shower she had just taken. 

He stroked her, long and smooth, with just the right amount of pressure to make her gasp. He did it again and again and again, until the whispers that formed his names turned into cries, until she was begging for him inside her.

He whispered in her ear, "you want me?"

"Yes, Az—please—I want—I need—" 

He applied pressure again, and she was writhing beneath him. "What do you want?" His voice was quiet, almost calm. She could just hear the desire beneath it, an undertone that said he wanted her as much as she wanted him. "What do you want?" Azriel asked again, rougher this time. 

"You," Mor gasped out. "You."

He used his free hand to push open her legs and slip inside, not stopping as her back arched and she moaned. If it hurt, she would stop him. But as long as it didn't, he was intent on taking her higher than she'd ever gone before.  

"Harder," she managed in between thrusts. "Harder harder harder."

He obliged, the slap of skin against skin filling the room. Mor's body moved with him, and he could tell by the way it did that she was feeling his steady work deep within her. 

"How's that?" He growled in her ear. "Is that what you want?"

"No—no—" she gasped out, and he slowed down, wondering if he had taken it too far. " _ No _ ," she said again, grasping at his biceps, her nails digging into his skin. "Not enough," she panted. "I want you—over me  _ completely. Make me yours. Make me beg for it." _

Well this… this was new. He increased his speed again, taking Mor's hands with one of his own and pinning them above her head. "Like that?" He asked, midnight deep. 

"Yes, yes. More more more more. Talk to me," she managed. "Tell me how wicked I am."

Certainly new. And so amazing he had no idea why they hadn't done it before. "You and your wicked body," he said, low and guttural. "That wicked mouth, those wicked lips. I'm going to have to tame them," he said, and she threw her hips up to meet him, a moan escaping those lips. "You like that, don't you, you wicked wicked thing."

"Please please," Mor said, a nonsense plea. 

"Oh, now that won't do. You're  _ mine,  _ and you should only be allowed to say my name."

"But—" 

"No no no." He said, kissing her hard. "Only my name." He ran a thumb over her clit to punctuate  his point, and she moved against it, letting out a moan that sounded like his name. "Good," he said into her ear. "Good."

Her movements grew more frantic and he felt her nearing the edge. But his current ministrations weren't enough. He added two fingers to work her clit, taking a nipple in his mouth. "Come for me, you wicked thing," he said against the skin of her breast. 

_ "Azriel,"  _ she screamed, and shattered beneath him. His name on her lips, her body against his was enough for him to follow, crying out her name as she came down from her own high. 

She continued gently moving against him as he came back, pulling her fingers through his hair, her fingernails against his scalp. He had released her hands when he had come. 

They were silent for a few moments, Azriel's head buried in her breasts, Mor looking at the back of his head, though her eyes were unfocused. She enjoyed Azriel's weight on her. Another minute passed before he groaned and pulled out, turned them so her back was against his front, his wing covering them both. 

After a moment, he said, "I didn't… I didn't know you liked that sort of thing," 

He could feel her blush. "I've always kind of wanted to try it. And you seemed… amiable to it today."

"Did it live up to your hopes?" If he had disappointed her, made her uncomfortable… 

"Yes," she breathed out in contentment. "Did—did you like it?"

He kissed the back of her neck. "More than I thought I would." His voice returned to the deepness of earlier. "I think I might have to start spending more time coming up with things to say to you."

She shivered in his arms and he gave a deep chuckle. "Oh yes," he said. "I think this'll be very  _ likeable." _

"Azriel-" she said, trying to turn in his arms. 

"Shh," he said. "Sleep now. That's for another night." He paused. "Maybe the morning, if you're good."

He felt her skin flush, but he kissed the back of her neck again. "Sleep, my Morrigan. Sleep."

And she did, Azriel following soon after, safe and content in each other's arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to [fey-sand](fey-sand.tumblr.com) for betaing this, and coming up with the title. Thanks, friend. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic! It's the first smut I've written... ever, so feel free to leave constructive criticism for me.
> 
> I'm open to requests if you have them, but either way, feel free to come talk to me on my [tumblr.](cass-ian.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20fic)


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